


Marshmallows and Mischief

by LittlebutFiery



Series: Fictober 2018 [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Fictober 2018, Fictober Day 2, Gen, Humor, Some profanity, Team Mustang shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 22:55:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16168505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittlebutFiery/pseuds/LittlebutFiery
Summary: When it comes to making bets, Jean Havoc likes to think outside the box.For Fictober Day 2: "People like you have no imagination."





	Marshmallows and Mischief

**Author's Note:**

> Haven't gotten to Day 1 yet but hopefully I will soon. In the meantime, enjoy Day 2!

“People like you have no imagination, Heymans,” Jean chuckled, propping his feet up on his desk.

“It’s not about imagination, dumbass,” Heymans scowled. “I’m telling you it’s not physically possible.”

“You’re just scared that I’m gonna beat your record,” Jean taunted.

“I mean, it  _ is _ an impressive record,” Kain said.

“Don’t encourage him, please,” Heymans sighed, rubbing his temples. “Jean, just quit while you’re ahead. You’re not gonna beat my record at Chubby Bunny. You’re gonna embarrass yourself, like you always do.”

“Vato, thoughts?” Jean asked instead, turning towards the fourth member of the group. “Whose side are you on?”

“Neither. It’s a waste of food, and there’s at least one reported death from this game,” Vato shook his head. “Besides. The Colonel and the Lieutenant should be back soon, and I’m not looking for another chewing out.”

“Oh, grow a backbone,” Jean waved him off. “Heymans, what’s your record? 15?”

“ _ Twenty-nine _ ,” Heymans corrected with a scowl.

Jean looked cowed for only a moment before grinning again. “So I get to thirty, I win, yeah?”

“That would seem to be accurate,” Heymans sighed.

“So I fit thirty marshmallows in my mouth, and you can understand me saying ‘Chubby Bunny,’ you do my paperwork for a week?” Jean went on.

“I’m not doing shit for you,” Heymans rolled his eyes.

“Fine, fine, I see how it is,” Jean shrugged. “You’re scared I’ll beat your record, so you don’t wanna find out. Fair enough.”

Heymans took a deep breath, let it out, and grumbled, “Fine, dumbass. Go ahead, be my guest. I ain’t saving you if you choke on a damn marshmallow.”

A wicked, knowing grin split Jean’s face in two. “Don’t worry, pal, I’m not gonna choke. This’ll be a walk in the park.”

Before any of the others could say a word, Jean reached into a drawer and triumphantly set down a large bag of mini marshmallow on his desk. He tore it open and began to count out thirty, shoving them into his mouth, half-singing a very clear ‘Chubby Bunny,’ before pushing his towering mound of paperwork onto Heymans’ desk.

Heymans’ eye twitched with frustration, so Jean laughed and said, “Have fun with that paperwork, bud. I’ve been putting that shit off for a week and a half.”

“You fucking cheater,” Heymans growled. “I’m not doing shit for you.”

“Hey, not my fault you don’t think outside the box,” Jean shrugged. “You said ‘marshmallows.’ You didn’t say what size.”

“Asshole,” Heymans grumbled, adding a well placed kick to Jean’s precariously balanced chair, which sent blond and chair tumbling to the ground.

“Everything all right in here?” it was Mustang’s voice as he and Hawkeye returned from lunch.

“Oh, absolutely, boss,” Jean smiled a shit-eating grin, clearly aimed at Heymans. “Just teaching Breda to use some imagination, that’s all.”


End file.
